


Sabbatical

by wanderinghooves



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Development, Developing Relationship, F/M, Light Angst, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderinghooves/pseuds/wanderinghooves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though no longer considered an enemy, Sasuke’s presence in Kohona is far from constant following the Fourth Shinobi War. Told through his arrivals and departures from the Village Hidden in the Leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It is two years before Uchiha Sasuke returns to Konohagakure.

Two years and probably would’ve been more if the village hadn't been in mortal peril, Sasuke thinks, and he tears his gaze away from from the colossal, rocky mass before him, shattered into thousands of electrified pieces by the force of his Raikiri. 

His repentance is far from complete, his journey far from over.

He has not yet earned the right to return.

Sasuke’s cloak whips past the gate before the first dust begins to settle.


	2. Chapter 2

It is over a year before Sasuke strides through the same gate again, carrying a missive from the Rokudaime and a slight limp in his gait from a recent confrontation with rogue Cloud mercenaries.

He manages to enter the Hokage Office without too much fuss. The shinobi guards are somewhat tentative to let him pass, but Sasuke knows Shikamaru has given them prior briefing, and he shoulders past them sparing incident.

The Rokudaime glances up as he pushes the door closed, folding the bandages he’d previously been occupied with and placing them out of sight.

Three years have left no trace on Kakashi, and beyond the white robe cloaking his shoulders and the wide-brimmed hat propped against his desk, Sasuke’s sensei remains exactly as he remembers. 

Observing his former student’s gaze, Kakashi smiles good-naturedly, lifting the arm to which he’d been tending. 

“Sakura”, he says simply, and Sasuke understands what he means. Sparring with the kunoichi is about as advisable as challenging a hurricane to a boxing match, and even he, despite Sharingan and Susano’o, regards her incredible strength with the healthy fear it deserves. 

The meeting is concise, merely scheduled so that Kakashi could hear firsthand about any disturbances in the outer reaches of the ninja world. Sasuke’s information is minor, and if he hadn’t thought Kakashi simply scrupulous in his duties, he would’ve suspected that his old sensei missed him.

Their discussion ends with a few short formalities, and then Sasuke moves to exit. Kakashi stops him, requesting that he stop by the hospital on the way out for a formal examination of his leg. Sasuke’s brows knit, but he assents nonetheless.

He’s certain now that Kakashi’s purpose is sentimental. The cut along his calf is nothing Sasuke can’t handle himself.

Even so, he shortly finds himself standing outside of Konohagakure’s large medical center, his body having disobeyed his wishes. Sasuke grimaces, but enters nonetheless.

The medic-nin at the front counter starts when she sees him, but quickly recovers and asks, with almost feigned sweetness, what he’s come for.

“Just an examination,” Sasuke says simply. He doesn’t want the exchange to last longer than is absolutely necessary. Clearly the medic-nin shares his sentiments, because she hands him a room number as soon as the words leave his mouth and hurriedly points him down a hallway, glad to be rid of him.

He can’t really blame her. 

Sasuke locates the specified room without any trouble. Konoha’s medic-nin run a tight ship, he muses, settling himself awkwardly on the examination table. After years of trekking through dirt and grime, the sterile steel and white walls are jarringly foreign, and he feels as though his presence mars the cleanliness of it all. 

He’s just about to wonder if this detour was really necessary when he hears footsteps approach the room.

The door is pushed swiftly open, and Haruno Sakura briskly strides into view, clad in crisp medical robes and gazing at a thickly laden clipboard. 

“Alright, so just a physical once-over, is it? Well, I’ll have you out of here in no time…”

He forces himself to meet her eyes as her words trail off into silence.

Sakura, too, remains largely as he remembers, but there are some new elements to her appearance. Her short pink hair is tied into a choppy ponytail at the nape of her neck, with some escaped strands stubbornly falling across her forehead. Her eyes are the same intense green, but now they are circled with faint blue rings, evidence of Sakura’s devotion to her craft.

“…Sasuke.”

It is a statement, and her voice is perfectly even. Not angry, or astonished, as he’d anticipated. Merely objective. 

A selfish part of him is surprised. If there’s one thing Haruno Sakura has never been towards him, it’s ambivalent, and this new dynamic catches him unprepared. 

She removes her gaze to her clipboard, scribbling something on a medical sheet. When she returns her focus to him, her eyes are as unreadable as her words. 

“What brings you in today?” 

Sasuke motions to his leg, swathed in his self-perceived competent bandaging. Sakura, however, quietly clicks her tongue at his efforts and stoops to delicately unwind the fabric.

He can’t see anything out of the ordinary with his injury, but clearly he is ignorant in the realm of medicine, as Sakura begins to scowl even deeper at the angry red slash along his calf, gingerly running her fingers over the site with a practiced hand. 

“There’s infection. I can give you antibiotics that’ll take about a week to work, or I can reopen the wound and flush it out in five minutes.”

Sasuke realizes this is a question, and answers immediately.

“Reopen it.” He can’t be tied down with a prescription when he’s slogging his way through hell and high water.

Sakura’s head dips in assent, and she wordlessly reaches into the pocket of her robes for a sheathed scalpel. Observing this, Sasuke realizes it is a sign of her competence. Her skills are in too high a demand for her to waste time searching for the hospital’s issued equipment.

“Ready?” she asks, and he grunts in affirmative.

Despite his sky-high pain tolerance, he can’t help but hiss as the thin medical steel slices through his flesh, and he grimaces at the always-unwelcome sensation of his own blood streaming hot across his skin.

His discomfort is abruptly soothed by a cool, cleansing sensation, and he glances down to see Sakura’s hand swathed in soft green chakra, pulsing slowly as she clears infection from the gash. Her face is creased in earnest concentration, and something softens faintly in his chest.

For being such a fearsome warrior, Sakura is also the most devoted healer he’s ever encountered.

A sudden strangeness disrupts his thoughts, and he frowns at the sensation running along his calf, prickling as though icy water was flowing across the wound. Sasuke squints at the red line, receding before Sakura’s hands, and realizes she is knitting his skin back together.

Another minute of intense focus and her work is done, his leg betraying no sign of ever being compromised. Though she wraps the site in a layer of bandages, Sasuke knows this is merely a formality. Sakura’s healing skill is near perfect in its thoroughness.

She straightens up and he stands, shifting his weight experimentally. As he’d suspected, her repairs are remarkable.

Satisfied, he breaks the silence that has filled the room.

“Thank you.”

It’s slight, but he sees her mask slip, and he knows she can feel it. 

He has surprised her.

Unexpectedly, she allows him a smile. It isn’t happy, or relieved, but almost sad. It is the smile of one gazing upon something long lost and knowing it is gone.

The softened something in his chest twists.

“It’s no trouble.”

And then she’s gone, whisked out the door by the same purpose she rode in. 

He lingers momentarily, eyes on where she’d been only moments prior, before exiting himself. He purposefully avoids the gaze of the medic-nin at the front desk.

It’s unfair, he knows. She’d loved him since their Academy days, baring her heart to him despite the countless hurts he’d caused her. He’d done nothing, nothing to earn her adoration, shoving away her fondness with icy disinterest. The only love he’d received was that which she bestowed through her own irrational generosity. 

But now, when it finally seems that her affections have run rightfully dry in their freeness, Sasuke wants them back, recoiling from her indifference. Selfishly longs for the undeserved yet unwavering adoration, constant regardless of any unspeakable action he commits. 

It’s illogical, he thinks. Illogical and cruel.

Sasuke’s sandals click against the hard earth as he sprints past the gate. He does not look back.


	3. Chapter 3

It is nearly another year before he is coerced into returning again, this time strongarmed by Naruto into meeting his wife. 

He already knows Hinata, of course, and suspects Naruto of trying to entice him to return more permanently; they argue via letter for weeks before Sasuke relents. He is painfully aware that he’d let his friend down by missing the wedding, and he’s in the area already, so he alters his course without too much exasperation.

Sasuke scowls as he is tackled by the overexcited jinchuuriki almost as soon as he crosses the gate, but is not entirely immune to his friend’s antics. 

“I thought I was supposed to be meeting Hinata, dobe.”

Naruto grins. His blond hair is worn short these days, and he’s lost the hideous orange jumpsuit in favor of a more muted black and orange uniform jacket. A welcome change, Sasuke thinks.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s back at the house. I just wanted to see you, ya know? It’s been too long.”

Sasuke shakes his head at his friend’s incessant chatter as they continue on, updating him on everything from the village’s new construction to Ichiraku’s reformatted menu. 

Some things never change.

The Uzumaki residence is a pleasant, small but comfortable. Sasuke feels a wave of warmth wash over him as Naruto pushes the door ajar, and can’t help but envy him.

He hears bustling sounds coming from the kitchen and then Hinata emerges. She appears very different from what Sasuke remembers, but then he never knew her very well anyway. 

Eternally modest, Naruto’s wife wears a simple, sleeveless kimono blouse and a white apron, and her long hair is now more maturely cropped. Four years have only served to increase Hinata’s gentle beauty, and Sasuke wonders if she’s actually too good for his dobe of a friend.

“Sasuke, come in,” She says, good-naturedly but demure, and she motions to the home’s small seating area. 

Her voice seems stronger now, infinitely more confident than the timid girl he remembers from the Academy, and as she moves to greet her husband, Sasuke observes that they’ve balanced each other out. 

Once again, he feels a pang of jealousy. He is pleased for Naruto, but Sasuke’s doomed to his wandering nature, and he knows he can never afford the luxury of this settled life.

“Hey, Hinata, where do you want these-“

Sasuke starts, and turns in his seat just in time to see Sakura saunter through the kitchen’s doorway.

Instead of Hinata, her eyes land on him, astonished, and they both freeze. 

Inexplicably, Sasuke’s brain offers an image of a cat poised motionless before its prey, and suddenly, illogically, he’s afraid she’s going to hit him, but instead she simply rearranges her features into an expression of amiable neutrality.

“Sasuke. It’s been a while.”

“Ten months,” he says without knowing why, and immediately berates himself. 

Sakura’s neutral mask cracks at the edges as her eyebrows furrow quizzically, but Naruto cuts in obliviously before she can reply; for once, Sasuke is thankful for his friend’s loud mouth. 

“The gang’s all here, let’s eat!”

As the Uzumaki home is only large enough to allow for a four-person dining table, Sasuke inevitably finds himself seated next to Sakura; this is a factor he attempts to ignore, but the recent exchange between them makes him wish they were somehow separated further. She maintains her determinedly platonic air, and he can’t help but feel insulted by how much better she is than him at addressing the situation with indifference.

Situation. When did it become a situation? He glowers internally at the soft spot in his chest, which suddenly threatens to balloon out of its designated corner, and is disgruntled with the unwarrantedness of it all. 

Hinata appears before the table with a large kitchen pot, and the distinct scent of homecooked ramen interrupts his thoughts. Sasuke notes this with some amusement. No wonder the dobe loves her so much.

The food is quickly distributed and conversation bubbles amongst them as Naruto gives the order to dig in, but Sasuke is so intent on avoiding brushing Sakura’s arm that he eats little and says even less. If she notices this, she gives no indication, content to banter with Hinata over hospital matters, tease Naruto, and generally regard him with pensive silence.

It’s enough to drive him mad.

At some point, a quiet quip from Hinata at Naruto’s expense halts the flow of conversation. Sasuke’s been too enveloped in purposefully evading his tablemate to know what exactly has transpired, but suddenly he doesn’t care, because-

Sakura is laughing.

It’s been so long since Sasuke has witnessed the sound that it’s almost foreign, but it’s one of the purest things he’s ever heard. He dares a glance at the kunoichi, and immediately regrets it. 

Sakura’s eyes have almost completely closed in laughter, with occasional flares of green glinting behind her lashes. Her mouth turns up at the corners, and her teeth flash as her ringing, genuine mirth spills forth. A strand of pink hair has come loose from its place tucked behind her ear, and it dances merrily across her forehead as she laughs.

The softness in his chest expands despite his resistance, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knows whatever futile battle he’s been waging is surely lost. 

Sasuke manages to tear his gaze from her, glaring down at the tabletop with such intensity that he has to almost forcibly resist his Sharingan from manifesting.

What has come over him?

Mercifully, the evening soon comes to a close, and before long Sakura has stood from her seat with a yawn and is heading for the door, thanking the hosts for their hospitality and mentioning an early morning hospital shift with some regret as Hinata hugs her farewell.

Sasuke has likewise abandoned his place at the table, and reaches for his traveling cloak when a hand pulls it from his grasp. 

Annoyed, he looks up to meet Naruto’s blue eyes, which somehow appear unsettlingly knowing.

The jinchuuriki just shakes his head at Sasuke’s glare, grinning infuriatingly.

“And you say I’m the dobe.” 

Sasuke’s scowl deepens, suspicious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Naruto sighs and allows him to retrieve his cloak, thankfully letting the subject drop.

Sasuke fastens the cloak around his neck and is immediately swept into an unexpected hug by Hinata. He pulls a face as Naruto smirks at his expense, but pats Hinata on the head anyway, albeit awkwardly. 

“Thank you for visiting.”

He inclines his head in gratitude as she opens the door, and steps out into the crisp dusk.

Sasuke has only traveled a few steps before he notices another figure ahead of him in his path, and slows to a stop.

It’s Sakura, evidently taking her time on her own walk home.

He is met with a moment of indecision, and then his feet act before his brain has time to come to a consensus. He breaks into a jog, closing the gap between himself and her.

She hears his footsteps approaching and turns to face him, still unreadable save for the slight confusion evident in her eyes.

“Sasuke.”

“Sakura.”

He trots to a halt a few feet short of her, and is suddenly very aware of how imprudent he must seem. Though he’s easily a head taller than her, he suddenly feels very small in her presence, as though his awkwardness has somehow reverted him back to his Academy self.

A tangible stillness begins to form between them, and Sasuke curses himself for the irrationality of his actions. Something, surely, is wrong with him; it’s as though he’s trapped in the most crippling genjutsu of his life.

“I’ve missed you.”

The words spill out before he can bite them down. They’re true, of course, but he still finds himself inexplicably and uncomfortably warming beneath his cloak.

Sakura seems to betray no reaction, and Sasuke is deafened by the silence.

Abruptly, her mask thins once more, and she offers him the same bittersweet smile he’d received all those months ago in the hospital.

“Thank you.”

And then she turns, darting away before he can formulate a response.

Sasuke watches her rapidly retreating form, and is suddenly hit with the intense desire to evaporate into thin air. 

He whips around, breaking into a headlong sprint, and races his conflicted emotions to the gate.


	4. Chapter 4

It is barely two months until Sasuke crosses beneath the gate once more, wearing a fresh cloak and a newfound resolve. 

He can’t avoid himself anymore, and he’ll be damned if he won’t address the point directly. Uchiha Sasuke does nothing by halves. 

It is midday, a time during which he typically attempts to avoid villages due to the increased presence of other people, unless he is absolutely pressed by necessity.

Right now this is about the most necessary thing he can think of.

He’s far more agitated by the pounding in his chest than he’s ever been by any thirst or hunger.

When he breezes through the doors to the hospital, he notices with some surprise that the same medic-nin is tending the front desk. She meets his eyes with equal wariness as in their first encounter, but he’s got no time for her suspicion, so he forces himself to speak with the greatest civility he can muster.

“I’d like to see Haruno Sakura.”

“Well, I’m afraid she’s-“

“Please.”

Now the medic-nin stares at him, clearly shocked by his earnestness. He sees her conflict with herself briefly, but then she yields, sighing and scribbling a room number onto a loose paper.

“Her office is that way.”

“Thank you.”

He turns, striding down the hallway with such purpose that other hospital-goers practically leap out of his way. 

Her office is the furthest on the hall, tucked into a small corner of the building. Sasuke’s determination threatens to falter as his eyes meet the elegant lettering of HARUNO SAKURA engraved into the door, but he shakes himself and taps gently on the cool wood.

The door creaks open, and suddenly he feels a rush rise unbidden in his chest.

Sakura’s hair is loose about her shoulders, and it tosses gently as her head tilts ever so slightly, realizing with some disbelief who has interrupted her break from hospital duty. 

“Sasuke?” 

He sees her platonic guise is already intact, but he refuses to be deterred by it this time.

“Come with me.”

Sasuke is proud of how evenly he is able to say it. The words have been on his tongue ever since he’d last left Konohagakure, reeling from his encounter with her.

Her brows knit.

“What?”

“Come with me. On my journey. As my traveling partner.”

Crack. He sees a piece of her mask falter.

“Why?” Her voice is reserved; she won’t be so easily swayed, the stubborn, strong kunoichi she is, and then Sasuke can’t take it any longer.

He kisses her.

He feels her go instantly rigid against him, astonished, and her hands fly to his shoulders, prepared to shove him away with her amazing strength; but then, extraordinarily, for the first time in years she lets her guarded facade fall away entirely, and she instead wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in even tighter. 

Sasuke can’t remember a more blissful moment.

After what seems like many wonderful minutes, she pulls away, and he can’t help the blood that rushes to his face as she regards him with playful reproach.

“Took you long enough.”

He smiles despite himself, and then pulls her in again.


	5. Chapter 5

It is three days later, and Sasuke stands before the familiar green gate, fresh supplies lending a satisfying weight to his traveling pack. He is not leaving or entering, but simply waiting, and subconsciously he notes that this is the least trying of the three.

His head snaps around as he hears his name called, and then he catches sight of Sakura, strolling towards him.

Her hair is pulled away from her face by a simple blue band, similar to Konoha's forehead protectors sans the Hidden Leaf symbol. She's wearing her simple red training outfit, partially obscured by a long white traveling cloak and canvas knapsack akin to those he himself carries. She waves a small scroll at him as she approaches.

"The official mission from the Hokage," she explains, reaching him. "S-rank. I'm to, how did he phrase it, investigate potential medical resources in the remote shinobi lands while simultaneously monitoring a previous, long-term travel assignment."

Sasuke shakes his head in amusement as she grins at him.

No, he hasn't yet earned the right to truly return to Konohagakure. But maybe, he thinks, watching Sakura determinedly stroll past the gate, he can take the best of it with him.


End file.
